


pull the blackout curtains down

by PoemIsDead



Series: they say we are what we are [1]
Category: JackSepticEye (YouTube RPF), Markiplier (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, And kinda soft, Anti's kinda slutty, College AU, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, PWP, Rimming, actually based off a porno, and Chase is sweet, so it's kinda porny guys, with hints of almost plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-11 05:41:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15965861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoemIsDead/pseuds/PoemIsDead
Summary: College au. Anti's the guy it's probably best to avoid if you know what's good for you.But god, if he isn't damn pretty.





	pull the blackout curtains down

**Author's Note:**

> So this was one of those things that just happened at 3AM and kind of grew out of control, so . . . you know, take it for whatever it is.
> 
> Anti's a bit softer than usual and Chase is pre-kids and -Stacy, so don't expect heavy angst ~~yet~~. This is mostly an excuse for . . . well, for porn, honestly. I've been doing that a lot recently  >.>

You didn't trust Anti. That was just an accepted part of being a member of Chi Psi. Or hanging out with Chi Psi. Or being in the general vicinity of Chi Psi.

Anti was the type of kid that was just bad news all around, loud and vindictive, quick-witted and mean, and more than happy to fuck you over for a Klondike bar. It was pretty much common knowledge that he was a procurer of illicit items, and could get you just about anything for the right price. And he had one hell of a silver tongue, spinning stories the way some people _breathed_. Adding together the drugs and the cheating and the general asshole nature he taunted with a kind of _pride_ , it was a good life policy to just never trust the guy.

And yet, that very well known fact did nothing to stop Chase from getting into this situation in the first place.

Because Chase didn't stop him. He didn't stop him when he grabbed his wrist and started leading him through the hordes of drunk college students. He didn't ask him where he was taking him as they weaved through a group of giggling girls who were probably high as well as being utterly sloshed. He didn't question him as he dragged him up the wide, ornate staircase that had been soaked in more beer than veneer at this point in its life.

He didn't say a damn word until Anti was dragging him into a messy room bathed in muted red light, and shutting the door behind them.

"Did you need somthing?"

It was _probably_ a stupid question, to be fair. Because this was a college party, they were both pretty tipsy, and Anti had obviously just taken him away to his _bedroom_ , which could only mean so many things. But Chase's admittedly fuzzy mind was apparently also still a gentleman when drunk, and he was not about to make assumptions just because Anti was looking at him like a scrap of meat in front of a hungry dog.

Not that he didn't _want_ to think what his brain was trying to think. He might have been bi leaning pretty heavily towards straight, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate the scene laid out before him. Anti was leaning back against the door, the lines of his well-toned body accentuated prettily by the odd lighting choices of the room. The black choker he wore around his throat stood out sharply against his pale skin, and his shirt had ridden up a bit, showing off a smooth belly, leading down into the pretty dip of his hips into tight black jeans.

He was damn gorgeous. Chase would have to be insanely drunk not to notice that. Or much more sober not to acknowledge it. The guy was built like some kind of Olympian runner, all lean lines and perfect curves, and his sharp heterochromatic eyes led an alien kind of beauty to his already painfully attractive face that made it impossible not to stop and stare.

So yeah, Anti was gorgeous. And he probably wanted to fuck. And Chase was not the kind of guy for casual fucks at frat parties, nor was he naive about Anti as a person. And yet, he still wasn't trying to excuse himself as the Irish immigrant rolled his eyes and shoved off the door to stalk towards him.

"Yeh ain't that drunk," he snipped, his accent odd, but not as foreign as Chase would have expected. "And yeah ain't that stupid."

He had to step over a pile of clothes as he walked towards him, and Chase wondered in that buzzed kind of idleness when he'd stepped over it himself. The room was an utter mess, larger than the classic dorm rooms on campus, and yet still cluttered with books and dirty clothes, towels and bags of who-knew-what strewn around in an unorganized layer over every bit of furniture. The bed wasn't even in a frame, just jaunted at an odd angle in the middle of the room, like someone had tossed it there carelessly, and the sheets were pulled off of one corner to reveal an oddly pristine mattress.

"Or maybe yeh are," Anti mused as he paused in front of him, lip curled down in a crooked scowl that didn't quite meet his eyes. Like he was being tokenly annoyed instead of truly annoyed, and Chase's eyes couldn't help but flicker to the green iris, startling bright next to the almost dull gray-blue of the other, as Anti looked him over. "But you'll catch up quick, m'sure."

Anti's fingers were surprisingly long, now that he got to see them up close. Thin and arching, elegant really, as they reached out to press rather harshly into his chest, shoving him back towards the bed. His calves caught on the box spring, and another shove from Anti sent him tumbling back onto a surprisingly soft mattress, the fluffy pillowtop sinking down to envelop part of his hips and stopping any bounce he might have had.

Anti followed a moment later, throwing his leg over Chase's lap and sinking down over him like he'd just made himself a human chair, lanky arms coming out to drape over his shoulders as he looked down at him with unamused mismatched eyes.

"So," he said, and his breath smelled like crisp mint against his face, dark hair falling in a mess over what looked like a smattering of very faint freckles across his cheek. "Wanna fuck?"

Chase blinked. And then blinked again. And then probably blinked a third time, but he wasn't keeping track by that point. He had been _pretty_ sure that was what Anti wanted when he dragged him up here, but he somehow wasn't expecting that kind of . . . bluntness. He probably should have been with this being Anti and all, but he wasn't. And the simple, crude words took several moments for him to process.

"You . . . wanna fuck."

"Yeah."

"What, now?"

"No, I brought yeh up here so we could schedule some fuckin' in the future. The fuck kind of question is that?"

Chase shook his head slowly, hands coming up to tentatively rest on jean-clad hips, warm even through the thick material, like he was worried Anti was just going to disappear if he touched him.

". . . why?"

It was Anti's turn to blink, a moment of surprise crossing his face before his brows were pulling together in vexed confusion.

"Because I'm horny. And you're hot. And you think I'm hot. What other reason do I need?"

"No, no, it's just . . . I mean, there are plenty of hot people around, and you probably know some of them better-"

"Maybe it's _because_ I don't know yeh, huh?"

"Oh." Chase stopped at that, looking up at the pretty little frown the Irishman was wearing as he wondered at whatever drove the man. He wanted someone he didn't know? Chase was all for casual relationships, but he'd never quite gotten the appeal of sleeping with a stranger.

Then again, Anti wasn't a _complete_ stranger to him. More of a friend of a friend. Or a friend of a friend of a friend. And every single one of those friends had warned him about the snarky little punk, and yet, here he was.

Slowly hardening under the subtle grinding of Anti's hips.

"I guess that's . . . okay?"

Anti stopped, strong thighs keep him in Chase's lap as he leaned back to look down at the man.

"You _guess_? I'm offerin' yeh an easy fuck, and you _guess_ yeh'll take it?"

"Okay, look, you're not really selling it here-"

Anti shoved his chest hard, sending him toppling back into the fluffy mattress, silk sheets clinging to him as he tried to prop himself up on his elbows. Anti's thighs were still strong around his hips, helping the lanky man drape himself over him, one hand holding him up just inches above as mismatched eyes stared down at him.

"The way yeh were lookin' at me earlier, I didn't think I'd have teh sell yeh," he purred, his back curving in as he readjusted over the American with feline grace. His hips dragged over him, creating a delicious kind of friction through their jeans as Anti turned to ghost surprisingly soft lips over his collarbone. "Or was I wrong?"

A blush crept over Chase's cheeks as he swallowed, a stupid kind of shame rising in his chest. He hadn't realized he'd been so obvious when he was checking him out. It wasn't his fault - it was a boring party, mostly with people he didn't know, his friend had ditched him, and there weren't a lot of interesting things to look at.

But then Anti had walked in, and he'd already have been the most captivating thing in the room, with his unique eyes and lithe body and sleek black clothes, even without the way he seemed to be prowling the place like a panther on the hunt.

He was damn pretty to watch, and maybe Chase would have had a better time ignoring him if he hadn't been going through one of the driest spells in his life.

"I-" Chase started, unsure exactly what he was going to say as the back of his neck burned, before Anti was turning his lips to his throat instead, teeth grazing over sensitive skin, and the American was swiftly forgetting why he was supposed to be uncomfortable. "Oh."

"Did I make a mistake, Brody?" Anti asked into his neck, his beard tickling under his chin before he leaned up to a lick a stripe over the shell of his ear, voice pouring in like silk as he spoke so close. "Or did yeh wanna fuck me?"

Chase swallowed, licking his lips and opening his mouth to answer, before a warm hand was under his shirt, smoothing up his stomach, satisfying that stupid skin hunger that he never could seem to shake, and he couldn't stop the little groan that rattled out of his chest as blunt fingernails scraped their way back down.

"I don't think I made a mistake," Anti murmured into his ear, a trace of amusement in his tone as his fingers played across Chase's hips. "Know why?"

"Why?" Chase groaned, too busy mapping out the exact texture of his soft hand, and the tautness of the thigh he was gripping through torn jeans, to care what he was saying.

"Because," he started, and Chase opened his eyes in time to catch the little smirk twisting up his face, mouth inches above his stomach as he slowly moved down his body. "Yer dick's been trying to find Wonderland since I sat down."

Well, if he didn't want to fuck Anti, he should probably say something now, and quick, because Anti's fingers were way too good at undoing his damn fly, and he was already pulling the zipper, and _holy shit_ he could feel his breath through his boxers, and-

" _Fuck_ ," Chase groaned as warm fingers wrapped around his shaft through thin fabric, squeezing slowly as Anti looked up to flash him a wicked grin.

"See?" Anti asked with the kind of cockiness that'd usually have Chase's hackles rising in annoyance, but he couldn't even begin to complain as those fingers started a lovely, rhythmic pulse around his dick. "Called it."

"Yeah," Chase agreed in a hoarse voice, licking his lips as his hazy eyes looked up at the ceiling.

He hadn't really been expecting anything out of this party. Just a quick way to unwind, have a few beers, listen to some good music, maybe do some stupid shit with his friends. But this . . . well, he wasn't going to complain too much about Anti's sudden interest.

Especially when he slipped him from his boxers to lick a stripe up the underside of his cock.

"Ngh, _fuck_ ," Chase reiterated eloquently, fingers lacing into Anti's hair without any real input from his buzzed brain, too focused on the heat of his mouth, and the perfect little vacuum he created as he suckled on the crown, to care about what his hands were doing.

Anti laughed around his length, a giddy little sound bordering on derisive even as he slowly sank his lips down over him, tongue quivering along the underside and making it very difficult for Chase to remember why it was a bad idea to buck into that delicious warm wetness.

"Anti," he panted, struggling to keep his hips still, and decidedly failing as the Irishman shoved down far enough that he could feel the back of his throat bump against the tip. "You're- _hah_ , mmn, really . . . really good at that."

"Mmmm," Anti moaned in agreement, not detaching his lips as he started a slow, tortuous rhythm. Deft fingers were wrapping around the hem of his pants, tugging to pull them down properly, and Chase fumbled to help him, all too eager to kick the offending garments to the floor next to the mattress, leaving him in nothing but a hitched up shirt and a crooked hat.

Chase let out a slow breath that gradually turned to a moan as Anti worked him over, skillful lips and tongue and a gag reflex that said he'd done this plenty of times before making him want to just lay back and enjoy the heat of his mouth for the next few _hours_. Anti didn't seem to be in any particular rush, his eyes half-lidded and dark as he leisurely sucked, occasionally glancing up to give him a cocky wink or as much of a smirk as his current predicament would allow. Chase's fingers curled through his hair, loosening some so he wasn't trying to quite choke him as his other hand came up to brush over his neck, cupping under his jaw as his hips bucked weakly.

"That's . . . that's really nice. _Mm_ , that's really nice, but you're gonna have to stop . . . if you want . . ."

Anti pulled off with an audible pop, reddened lips turning up in a smirk as he crawled his way back up his body.

"Don't be goin' off too fast, now," he purred, voice just a _little_ rough in a way that made Chase's dick twitch in excitement. "I wanna get my money's worth outta yeh."

And then the Irishman was kissing him, and Chase groaned into his mouth, opening easily to let a tongue tasting subtly of his own musk past his lips. He tried to give as good as he got, tongue and lips that certainly weren't unfamiliar with the whole kissing thing doing their best to tease and play Anti in kind, and the way the dark-haired man sank lower over him with a groan, dragging his jean-clad hard-on over Chase's, felt like a pleasant little victory.

"Do you have, mm, lube?" he asked around kisses, feeling flushed and breathless as Anti pressed his lithe body down over him.

"On the dresser," Anti groaned, sitting up and rolling off him as he started tugging his t-shirt over his head. "And lose the shirt."

Chase sat up, fingers feeling far too clumsy to be the same hands that could put the perfect spin on any object he threw as he struggled with his shirt, one hand coming up to grab the brim of his hat before Anti stopped him.

"You can keep the hat," he said with a grin, pushing the cap down over his eyes. "It's cute on yeh."

Chase shoved the cap back up with a stupid blush, struggling out of his shirt with the damn thing on instead of being smart and removing it for that part. The second he was free, naked except for his damn baseball cap and not half as embarrassed by that as he should have been, he was turning towards the dresser beside the skewed mattress, searching through the utter mess he found there until he found a black bottle of lube.

It took him embarrassingly longer to find his own damn pants, rifling through them to find the condom in his wallet, ripping it open with his teeth and managing to put it on without looking too much like an idiot.

And then he turned back towards Anti and almost had a heart attack.

The Irishman was naked, obviously much more adept at stripping down in a hurry than Chase was, and on his knees, cheek pressed into the mattress as he looked back at him. And holy fuck, what a sight that was. He'd appreciated Anti from a distance before. And he'd had his hands all over him just a moment ago. But he wasn't prepared for getting such a stark look on a body that definitely lived up to his expectations.

Smooth, ivory skin, stark under the black choker, with the faintest smattering of freckles over his back. A dip in his spine between the lean muscles of his shoulders leading down to the picture-perfect curve of his ass, smooth and soft above thick, strong thighs. He was surprisingly hairless, smooth and clean, even over his balls, and almost pornstar perfect.

Now, Chase was an athlete - here strictly on an athletic scholarship - and damn proud of his body. He'd been working on it for years, and he was happy and more than a little egotistical about the way he looked. But damn if Anti didn't make him feel just a little bit inferior, almost _feeling_ every imperfection on his body as he looked over a form that looked hand-crafted to be the most enticing thing he'd ever seen.

"Wow," he breathed softly, stunned for a moment as he sat there dumbly, dick out and lube in hand, and completely transfixed. Anti glanced back with a grin, winking at him with his blue eye before long fingers were coming back to wrap around plump cheeks and pull them apart to give him an even better view.

"Yeah," Anti agreed with not a hint of modesty. "Now come on before I have to fuck myself."

Chase swallowed, struggling to add moisture to his suddenly dry mouth. He felt decidedly sober just then, the weight of the situation finally crashing over him as he realized Anti had just dragged him up here and laid himself out like an offering to a god. And Chase really wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve this, but he was not about to take it for granted.

He fell to all fours, crawling the short distance to him before tossing the bottle of lube on the mattress next to them, and leaning down to bury his face in the proffered gift.

"Oh," Anti breathed, a little sound of surprise squeaking past his lips as Chase lathed his tongue over his entrance in slow, even stripes. "Yeh don't- _ngh_ , yeh don't have teh- oh _fuck_."

Chase's dick twitched eagerly as he pressed his tongue past the tight little ring of muscle, the sound of Anti's surprised little noises of pleasure like music to his ears as he did his best to drive him as insane as the image had driven him. His hand came up to smooth over his balls, rolling them over in his hand as he circled his entrance, squeezing lightly as he pressed back in, and feeling an odd little swell of pride as Anti rocked back against his face.

"You cheeky little fuck," Anti panted as Chase pressed as deep as his tongue would allow, dragging one finger up to play at his rim as he teased him. "I didn't- _ah_ , didn't bring yeh up here to fuckin' tease me."

Chase made a noncommittal noise, hardly paying attention to what he was actually _saying_ and mostly focusing on how much he seemed to be struggling to say it as he reached for the little black bottle he'd so carelessly tossed. The slick liquid was cool on his fingers, and he rubbed his pads together to warm it first, tongue pulling back to lick over him as he used his other hand to hold one meaty cheek, thumb teasing at his rim.

Anti didn't seem to be expecting the slick breach of his fingers, his back arching sharply, hips lifting up into his touch as the rest of him seemed to melt into the mattress. The throaty moan he breathed half into the sheets twisted up next to his face sounded like sin heaven, and Chase swallowed as he watched them sink into the twitching tight muscle.

"If that's not your cock in the next- _ohhhh_." Anti's voice cut off in a guttural _moan_ , hips twitching sharply as Chase hooked his fingers apparently just right. He could actually _see_ the muscle in his inner thigh jump as he twisted them again, chasing down the little spot inside him that would have been a struggle to find if not for Anti's _enthusiastic_ responses.

It was almost . . . pornographic. He'd had his fair share of sexual dalliances, and he'd learned pretty quick that porn tended to be a pretty far cry from reality when it came to sex. Everything in the porn industry was fine-tuned to show off sex from the crudest or most appealing angle, whereas most people were more interested in what _felt_ good rather than what _looked_ good, and therefore often seemed less . . . into the whole thing. And Chase had learned pretty quick to not compare his personal sexual experiences with anything from the hardcore porn industry - it was like trying to compare a glorified war movie with actual war.

But Anti . . . it was like he was putting on a show. Like every move he made was meant to heighten the experience, to entice and enrapture, to drive his partner mad. His body was like a goddamn Adonis and he knew just how to curve his back to show that off, his voice sounded like sin as he moaned hedonistically into the pillowtop, and that tight ring of muscle seemed to welcome the intrusion of Chase's thick fingers, letting them slide into his body without the need to tease and stretch, like he had spent untold minutes preparing himself for this moment before he'd gone to fetch the athlete.

It was honestly enough to drive Chase insane, his cock aching hard enough now that it _hurt_ , and all he wanted to do was bury it in that quivering heat, seak out the oblivion Anti was not only offering, but _demanding_.

But there was a tone in Anti's voice, the slightest strain to the way he moved, the sound of his moans, that had something worried in the back of his head. Like the troublemaker was just putting it all on, or . . . or maybe not that, but some kind of . . . desperation to him. Something else going on that Chase was missing, and if not for the way he found the Irishman's cock, achingly hard and dripping copiously onto the silk sheets, he might have had more pause about the whole thing.

Instead, the sight of Anti immediately rocking shamelessly into his touch, wanton moans as he seemed conflicted on whether he wanted to thrust back onto his fingers or forward into the tight grip of his hand, had any bit of doubt bleeding from Chase's mind in a heartbeat as he fumbled for the lube bottle again, sighing as he slicked his shaft liberally.

"Yesssss," Anti groaned as Chase pressed between his cheeks, sliding over his twitching entrance and teasing the tip against the rim. His eyes traced the gorgeous lines of the man's body, the way he was still bent into the bed, chest pressed into the mattress as his far-spread knees held his hips up, and he couldn't help but wrap his fingers around his side, watching them sink into soft flesh as Anti let him use the new handhold to drag him back.

Fuck, he wasn't even fucking him yet, and that image was already going to be the death of him.

He could feel Anti's tight heat easily through the thin material of the condom as he started to press forward, achingly hot and already trying to swallow him up greedily. And the way Anti was rocking back, trying to take more already, had Chase slack-jawed and groaning as he slowly sank himself to the hilt, not having to stop once as Anti's throaty voice encouraged him further.

"Oh fuck," the Irishman rasped into the sheets as his body spasmed around him. And then again, with more force as Chase wrapped his fingers around his side again. "Oh, _fuck_."

"You good?" Chase managed in a hoarse voice, his free hand wrapping loosely around his hip, thumb brushing softly over smooth skin as he forced his hips still, waiting for him to adjust.

"Don't ask me how I am," Anti groaned, turning his face to press it into the sheets. "Just fuck me."

Chase paused, the first taste of something uncomfortable churning in his gut at the tone of Anti's voice, before the body under him was rocking back _hard_ and he forgot why he'd stopped.

He tried to start slow, easy, shallow thrusts that would give the Irishman a chance to get comfortable, get accustomed to the sensation and his girth before he really started to work him over. But Anti wasn't having it. Just a few thrusts in, and Anti was starting to meet him on every stroke, rocking back sharply to create a harder thrust, and Chase was not strong enough of a man to resist that euphoric slide for that long.

He wrapped both sets of fingers around Anti's hips, finding a perfect handhold in the meaty curves there as he started into a proper rhythm, still shallower that Anti seemed to like, but picking up speed enough that he had the Irishman moaning into the sheets below him.

"Oh, fuck me," Anti commanded, his voice pitching up higher subtly as he twisted his hips with each thrust, taking only a moment to find Chase's rhythm and match it. "Fuck me, come on, fuck me, fuck me harder, use me, please."

There was a taste of that anxiety again, that churning feeling in his gut as he caught that desperate little tone to Anti's voice. Something that was just . . . off. Wrong. Like Anti was on the verge of something, and he just wasn't privy to it.

But the second he started to slow, the wiry frame under him was twisting in annoyance, thrusting back harder and making little noises of aggravation until Chase relented and fucked him properly.

And even despite that, it was probably one of the most incredible fucks of his life. Not the best sex he'd ever had, that required love and emotion for him. But as far as emotionless pleasure-chasing fucks went, this was top of the list.

The way Anti's back arched just so, the creases over his spine as Chase's thrusts forced him to bend further, the broken gasps and moans as his fingers dug into the sheets with each rock until his knuckles were white with the pressure.

It was going to be burned into his mind for _years_.

"Mm-mm, _god_ , _yes_ , god, _fuck_ ," Anti babbled under him, and Chase had to agree. The tight heat slicking over his cock, the subtle twitches from his soft insides, the way his entrance seemed to grip him with greedy need. That delicious electricity was building in his gut, and he'd be a lot more embarrassed about how close he was if Anti didn't seem half out of his mind himself.

And then Anti made a noise, some half-choked sob that just sounded too real, that sounded too _emotional_ for Chase to just ignore, that twisting anxiety back in his gut, and he didn't stop himself from responding the way he wanted to this time.

He didn't stop - he was pretty sure Anti would stab him with the nearest sharp object if he did - but he did slow, finding a pace he could manage as he leaned over him and reached for one of the hands still tangled up in the sheets.

Anti didn't yank away from his grip as he twined their fingers together, pinning the hand under him as he used it to support himself, but that may have had more to do with the way he was using his other hand to reach under the panting man to grip his leaking shaft.

He whimpered - he _whimpered_ \- the sound far too soft for the sharp-tongued troublemaker Chase knew him as, and the athlete nuzzled his face in between the Irishman's shoulder blades, half out of his mind with the tightening in his body, but determined to offer some support, some solace or relief for whatever was making the man make that noise.

He groaned as Anti's free hand reached back to slip under his hat, knocking it off as he tangled long fingers in his hair, tugging sharply and shooting pain that was just bordering on too much down his spine as he thrust back against him, dragging deep guttural moans from Chase. Anti's skin was smooth against his face, the thin lines of his beard scratching at soft skin as it rolled in between his shoulder blades, and Chase couldn't resist the urge to mouth at it as his hand stroked over throbbing flesh, drowning in the curses ground out from between Anti's lips.

And then Anti gasped, his fingers tightening around his hair and his hand alike, and he shuddered, the feeling rippling all the way down to his cock, and Chase was done, muscles in his legs jerking sharply as he shot into tight heat, knowing the condom caught it but relishing the images his mind gave him of filling the Irishman up as his shaft twitched inside him.

"Oh, fuck, _Anti_ ," he groaned against his back, voice hoarse as his hips jerked, muscles spasming. He was vaguely aware of the little breath Anti took, a choked sound, before his half-functioning brain reminded him to stroke just in time to send Anti crashing over the peak as well, the Irishman more _screaming_ than moaning as he came in a quivering, twitching mess under him, and Chase _wished_ he was coherent enough right then to take it in properly.

He was starting to remember his name by the time Anti was twitching weakly under him, fumbling fingers coming up to push his hand away from his oversensitive shaft and Chase was trying really hard to remember why he shouldn't just collapse on top of him. He was warm and soft, and the little weak spasm of his entrance around his slowly softening cock were sharp, but far enough apart to still be good, and he was just . . . content.

And sleepy.

What were the chances of Anti letting him just pass out here?

Probably not good, but a man could dream.

It was several long moments later before anyone moved, Anti's hand disengaging from the death grip it had had on Chase's for a minute there as he readjusted slightly to get more comfortable - but didn't seem interested in moving Chase. Which was . . . nice, if unexpected.

It took a few more long moments before Chase mustered up enough energy to speak.

"Did you need me to move?" he muttered into his back, having only turned his face just enough to allow him to breathe. Anti snorted under him.

"You can stay wherever you want, pretty boy," he said in a tone that might have come off a bit more derisive if Chase hadn't just fucked him into a screaming mess. "As long as I get to sleep, I don't give a fuck."

Chase paused, unsure for a moment. Did he mean he could stay if he wanted to? Or was he telling him to get out so he could sleep? Chase swallowed, chewing his lip as he pulled back, until a faint, annoyed whine came from the man under him.

_Fuck it,_ he thought, pulling out and peeling the condom off. He tied it off before glancing up to find the trashcan, across the room between two large bookcases, and tossing it with perfect aim from a good six feet.

Anti snorted, and Chase glanced back to see he had turned his face just enough to watch, rolling his visible green eye before he let his knees slip down the mattress, letting him collapse into the sinfully soft pillowtop.

"Fuckin' JizzPerfect over here," he muttered with a touch of tired, mocking amusement, and Chase couldn't help but grin back.

"I mean, if you wanna call me-"

"Shut up, Brody."

Chase grinned wider, laughing to himself as he found his boxers and tugged them back on, kicking his shirt and jeans together into a little pile and reaching for his hat to place on top before turning back to the messy mattress.

Anti had rolled over, sheet tossed carelessly over his hip, stomach still a sticky mess, not that he seemed to care, and Chase considered him for a long moment before carefully crawling back over to him. The lack of firmness in the mattress meant Anti made a crater in the fluffy material, basically rolling the American right into the Irishman's back as he snuggled up, waiting for any sound of annoyance or sign that Anti was about to kick his ass to the curb.

But besides a brief moment of tenseness when Chase threw his arm over him, Anti going rigid and still for a moment before slowly sinking back into the plush bed, nothing happened, and Chase smiled sleepily as he tucked his feet under the sheets, all too happy to cuddle and sleep off the last bits of alcohol and sex until Anti inevitably kicked him out.

"Don't get comfortable," Anti muttered just as he was slipping off, and Chase nodded sleepily, nuzzling his face in his back again and tugging the other man closer as he felt him curve into his touch.

He wondered if Anti would be up for waffles in the morning.

He'd kill for some post-sex waffles.

And maybe a little more time to figure the guy out. But waffles were a good excuse.

**Author's Note:**

> I plan on writing a sister piece for this that gives you some more insight into Anti, but we'll see. Got all my other stuff in the works at the moment, and this takes a back seat to that now that the blind fever writing is over.
> 
> Also, I've started to try to actually do things on [tumblr](https://poem-is-dead.tumblr.com/), mostly fan art reblogs, but if you want to come harass me there . . . I dunno, feel free I guess? XD
> 
> . . . I had fun with this.


End file.
